


Sudden Sense of Liberty

by ClockworkCourier



Series: The Liquid Engineers 'Verse [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Established Relationship, Laboratories, M/M, Science Experiments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkCourier/pseuds/ClockworkCourier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's two sides of Eren. There's the human side, all excitement and craving knowledge and regaining all the ground he had lost. Then, there's the Titan, primal and instinctual, and predictably dangerous. Armin's told him stories about men fighting with themselves. Now he understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, wow, I have been so excited to write and post this ever since I finished up with TLE. It's pretty much the filler in a sandwich, linking the first part and the third part with all sorts of awesomeness. Or, I hope it's awesomeness? :D
> 
> Essentially this is going to be vignettes following a linear timeline. They're somewhat disconnected, but all lead to an endgame. There's also going to be more worldbuilding (a lot of people seemed to really like that?) and some side-stories about other characters involved with the plot. My intention is that by the time the final part is put up, everything should fall into place. 
> 
> I hope all of you enjoy! ;w; And thank you to my amazing beta, Mo, for going through this with me and being superbly helpful. HUGS A MILLION ALL AROUND.
> 
> And in case you're of the Tumblr tag tracking variety, the two tags you can track are 'fic: sudden sense of liberty' and 'au: the liquid engineers'. Any updates should show up in both!

Eren had become aware of a lot of things that he hadn’t noticed before. It was typically simplistic things like changes in weather pattern, or the ebb and flow of people outside at certain times of the day. Simultaneously, he became much more aware of himself, and with this came the awareness of the fact that he had to acclimate to his new life. It was necessary, and also extremely difficult, in the wake of the decade he had spent in the monotonous abyss of his steadily-draining mind. The years he had spent in an endless slow-moving gauntlet around the fortified structures of the wall, not really paying attention to anything, until he fatefully crossed the gate near Trost.

It seemed so distant in his memory, though it didn’t have the same quality of memory as when he was a Titan, when every thought he had seemed to be shrouded in a thick, impermeable fog. This was just _distant_. It hadn’t even been two years, but Eren felt (in the measures of time that he had been taught) as if it had happened twenty years ago.

In comparison, everything at the moment felt like he had been caught in a whirlwind. Armin had assured him several times that it was alright for him to be afraid or wary of everything, as his world had been completely tossed around and changed. There was nothing wrong with his fear, his misgivings, and his doubts. Armin and Mikasa both assured him that the most important thing was that he stayed safe, and both had dedicated themselves wholeheartedly to the cause.

Eren also had to learn to trust people. It was unanimously decided that he should learn to adjust to people he had already met. In this case, Levi and Hanji were the prime subjects.

There were two motives to choosing them. One was a purely scientific one; Hanji and Levi were researchers at their core. Hanji had already started compiling information for a project completely centered around Eren. The TF-1505 file was a part of it, but _this_ particular project was new. Levi assisted when he could, although he had a more personal reason, which led into the second motive.  
  
Both scientists admitted (freely and begrudgingly, respectively) that they couldn’t stand to leave Eren’s case alone. With Hanji, it was only natural. She had been there every step of the way, understanding Eren and his transformation in a way that Armin was still having difficulty with. Levi, on the other hand, said that it was simply too difficult to discard a case that he had had such a hand in, especially with almost murdering Eren in the process. Being the first person to actually _see_ Eren as a human certainly didn’t help his chances of stepping out. While he didn’t ask outright for information like Hanji did, it became obvious that he was seeking secondhand information from her instead.

They decided to go about it in the most familiar way they could concoct. While not necessarily being a disguised way to go about it, Hanji and Levi would come to Armin’s house for a rudimentary medical inspection. Hanji had already said how fascinated she was with Eren’s progress in dealing with his humanity, as well as the remainders of his Titan self that manifested from time to time. If she came, Eren wouldn’t question Levi’s appearance as well.  
  
Still, even after all the planning, Armin found himself growing nervous about it. He did consider himself the worrying type, and after the events revolving around Eren, he figured it was completely understandable. Eren was like a volatile substance. He could seem placid and stable, and for all anyone else knew, he would remain that way as long as the status quo remained. But there was always something else, lurking just underneath the surfaces of psyche and skin.   
  
It had been admitted as a quiet whisper, uttered just as Armin was fringing on sleep one night.  
  
“In my head,” Eren said softly, staring at the pale sliver of light cast on the ceiling from the streetlight outside. Armin had turned to see the silhouette of Eren’s hand move up to his head.  
  
“What’s in your head?”

“The Titan.”

It was all he had said that night, but it spoke volumes in the place of a few simple words. He identified the Titan part as a separate entity. Armin had wondered about it before; if Eren had drawn a line within himself, strictly keeping the Titan and the man apart. Knowing this, he wondered if the Titan was an animalistic aspect, all instinct and primal need. If that was the case, then there was a sudden likelihood that Eren could be unstable.   
  
To calm himself down after that, he convinced himself that if anyone knew how to handle something of this sort, it would be Hanji, and Levi wouldn’t be far behind. Although, he figured it was only right to give them a fair warning.  
  
They showed up mid-morning, the sun bright despite the autumn coolness. Eren was contenting himself with tracing his fingers along the vibrant letters in a child’s spelling book, while Armin met the two scientists at the door.  
  
As to not attract attention, they were dressed casually. Levi wore a dark gray sweater and black trousers, looking grumpy regardless of the pleasant weather. Hanji, on the other hand, looked just as cheerful as always. She wore a thin cotton jacket over a plain blue shirt, and rather form-fitting black pants. The only sign that they were up to something other than a casual meeting was the clipboard under Hanji’s arm.  
  
“Morning, Armin!” she greeted before nudging Levi in the side.  
  
“Hmm."

“That’s his way of saying good morning. So happy,” she sighed. Then she perked back up, eyes and grin wide. “So, how is he doing? Any changes? Any _abnormalities_?”

“You make it sound like he’s mutating,” Levi grumbled behind her.

Armin managed a smile, forcing back the bile of anxiety that was threatening his esophagus. “Uh, just a little bit. I mean, nothing physical. He’s checking out pretty well on that front. But, um...” He didn’t mean to trail off, as he had rehearsed how he was going to say all of this only an hour before.

Naturally, Hanji began to fret. “Is he alright? He’s not having mental breakdowns or anything, right? We can take him back to the hospital right away if that’s the case!”  
  
“No! No, he’s okay! Just said something kind of worrying. That’s all!” Armin returned, holding his hands up.  
  
Hanji managed to calm herself down long enough for an explanation.  
  
“Alright. Um. Well, right before we went to sleep the other night, he told me that there was a, uh, a _Titan_ in his head. I mean, it could mean anything, and maybe I’m just assuming the worst here, but--”

Levi interjected suddenly, even surprising Hanji. “The Titan is different from Eren,” he said.

Hesitantly, Armin nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. I just don’t want something to happen that would set us back at square one, you know? I don’t want the court to think he’s more dangerous than he actually is.”

Hanji reached out and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Levi just shrugged and occupied himself with picking lint off his sleeve.  
  
“It’ll be fine, Armin. As long as you keep doing what you’ve been doing for him, it’ll all be okay,” she said.

\---

If Eren was nervous, he did an excellent job of pretending that he wasn’t. He remained on the couch that he had been sitting on before Hanji and Levi arrived, his letter book sitting on the coffee table, open to a page with a rainbow grid of words. Hanji took the spot beside him, Armin curled onto one end of the loveseat, and Levi taking the overstuffed chair at the other end of the room, opting to be the silent observer.  
  
“Alright, tongue out!” Hanji instructed.  
  
Eren obediently opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and making a humming sound while Hanji looked into his throat with a penlight.  
  
“Very nice! No post-nasal drip, no discoloration. Healthy as a horse by my jurisdiction!” she cheered, using her other hand to tap under his jaw to get him to close his mouth.  
  
“A... horse?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.  
  
She grinned, tucking the penlight into her pocket. “It’s an expression,” she said. “Did Armin teach you about those yet?”

Eren glanced at Armin questioning, who grimaced and shrugged. “Metaphors are still kind of touchy. We’re working on them.”  
  
“Aw, you’ll get it soon enough!” she chirped.   
  
She made him go through a few more simple tests, like holding his arm out and wiggling his fingers. All the while, Armin watched him, making note of every nuance in his movement, anything even more out of place than Eren’s behavior already was. Armin figured that Levi was doing the same thing, his eyes narrowed, only moving when Eren moved.  
  
Nothing seemed particularly out of place. He reacted well to everything Hanji did. Even with such limited speech, he could formulate decent responses to her questions. The social part of it was going well, which gave Armin an iota of relief.   
  
Then, Hanji leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes wide and curious. “So how do you _feel_?” she asked. “Not like your body. Your body seems fine. How about your head?”  
  
Eren watched her, expression cautious and guarded. “My head...” he said quietly, leaning away from her.

It was what Armin didn’t realize he had been waiting for. Something like a catalyst to the volatile aspects of Eren. He saw Levi shift in his chair, legs now close together, ready to spring up if need be.  
  
Hanji didn’t move, though. She kept her position, still looking at Eren and waiting for an answer. If anything, she seemed even more interested. “Like your mind. Thoughts. Feelings. Do you understand?”

He nodded slowly. “Armin talks about those a lot.”  
  
“I’m sure he does. So, how do you feel now? Or lately?”

“I don’t... I don’t know?” he responded. He gave Armin a nervous glance, the way he often did when he felt like he was giving an incorrect answer. Armin just nodded, silently attempting to assure him that he was doing well. Eren took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel a lot of things. Good things. Bad things.”  
  
“Bad things?”

Another nervous glance. “Not always bad?” he tried.

Hanji shook her head, her smile surprisingly easy. Armin knew that she had to understand how tense the situation was. They were starting to delve into a dangerous section of Eren’s psyche, which had never been done to anyone of his kind before, since as far as Armin knew, there had never been anyone else. “Everyone feels bad things. It’s not unusual, and if you feel like that, there’s nothing wrong with it. In fact, if you felt only good things, _then_ there would be a problem. I’m sure Armin told you that, too,” she said. Armin realized that her voice was softer than usual, carefully composed the way that some mothers spoke to their unruly children. She was being cautious, but not making a show of it.  
  
“Oh,” Eren breathed, leaning back into the cushions. He lowered his eyes, focusing on netting his fingers together. “I heard a voice. Not like... not like a _human_. Not like Armin or Mikasa. Not me. Just a voice. It was bad, I think?”  
  
“Did it tell you anything?” Hanji asked, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

He shrugged, honestly unsure. “Maybe. It’s not loud. Just there.”  
  
“Do you know what it is?”  
  
Eren’s breathing audibly stuttered, like he was choking down a gasp. His fingers were tightly interlocked, and Armin could see the skin of his knuckles turning white. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Eren,” Armin interjected. He had to be careful, but he also needed Eren to be honest. This wasn’t something he could lie about, or pretend that the problem could slip away undetected. “Tell Dr. Zoe what you told me.”

The look that Eren gave him was nothing short of desperate. “But--”  
  
Levi interrupted again. “We need you to tell us everything. What ever you think is dangerous is only going to be worse for everyone if you lie about it,” he said.

Silence. Thick, all-encompassing, suffocating. Eren closed his eyes and lowered his head, and Armin couldn’t help but think of the look Eren had had during the execution.  
  
“The Titan,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. “In my head. I told Armin.”  
  
“Your Titan?” Hanji asked.  
  
He nodded, his expression pained. “Yes.” Then, he lifted one hand to the side of his head, fingers brushing against his temple. “Before, when I was a Titan, my head was like... like a fog. Hard to see and hear. Now it’s not like that. But the Titan _is_. It’s like the fog again.”  
  
It was hard to fight the panic that rose in Armin’s chest. This was more than he thought, but nothing he hadn’t bargained for. Eren’s entirety was confusing. His past, his unclear future, and his perplexing present. Now there was the added issue of something within him, a second self that haunted him like the fog he spoke of. If it was anything like what Armin was imagining, it was either capable of destroying Eren completely, or destroying everything around him. It felt like bile in Armin’s mouth, acidic and terrible, something he had to hold back.  
  
“There’s a solution,” Levi said, tearing Armin away from the downward spiral of thoughts that he had been toeing. Eren turned to look at him, simultaneously hopeful and worried. Levi didn’t look at any of them, just continuing with what was evidently persistent lint on his clothing. “Just make you more human. Do human stuff. Not that hard.”  
  
“Human stuff?” Eren echoed.  
  
“Yeah. Going out. Doing what ever it is everyone else around here does. Can’t be a Titan if you’re busy being a human, I guess.”  
  
Armin glanced between Levi and Hanji, silently beseeching the latter to come up with a more logical solution. Something more scientifically sound, at least.  
  
Instead, her grin came back full force, her vocal volume rising to its typical deafening reach. “Perfect! We can make a project out of it! Not like we weren’t already, but we’ll just double our efforts! Totally brilliant. Good work, Levi!”  
  
He grunted in response, rolling the lint between his fingers irritably.  
  
Armin could see Eren’s confusion, the way he watched Levi as if he was waiting for a continuation of the solution itself; something Eren could at least understand. But it was obvious that Levi had said what he wanted to say. Now all that remained was Hanji excitedly imagining the possibilities out loud. What ever she said must have fallen on deaf ears, as Eren just looked concerned.  
  
If anything, Armin just hoped that Levi was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, I'm so sorry this is so late. This chapter, for it's pretty pathetic length, was oddly difficult to write. I think it was kind of like TLE in that I'm so excited for what's to come that building the bridge to get there is an Olympian task. I'm hoping I can make up for it within this coming week! Regardless, I hope everyone enjoys this update. There's at least some character development! ;w;

Hanji had given Armin two requests once Eren was in his custody. The first was to document anything Eren said about his past. His history was vital to the entire project, and although Eren admitted that his memory was cloudy at best, there was still _something_ to be gleaned from it. The second was to observe his health. This had been a repetitive request from the moment Eren had been released from the hospital. It was essentially mandatory anyway, as Armin wasn’t one to take risks when it came to Eren’s health.  
  
The biggest problem that presented itself with the first request was Eren’s speech. A hazy memory already prevented him from being too detailed when Armin asked, but he had a difficulty explaining things, especially the more complicated aspects. He would stutter through part of a story, only to pause and stare at Armin as though he had the answers. Then Eren would apologize profusely, ending up frustrated with himself.  
  
Still, they managed to document a few things.   
  
One important thing was that Eren didn’t get along well with other Titans. As far back as he could remember, there was a strong mutual discordance. To the best of Armin’s understanding, Eren didn’t exactly fit in with the others. While he looked the part, there was something about him that wasn’t acceptable. Titans would sometimes attack him for no reason, attempting to tear into him as if he was as good as a meal. In turn, he would fight them off, all the while feeling, in his words, “ _Very_ angry.” It wasn’t the mindless violence of a typical Titan. He just didn’t like them at all, and still didn’t.  
  
He explained those feelings one evening, laying on the sofa with his feet propped up on the armrest. “All bad. All... death,” he explained, talking more to the ceiling than to Armin.  
  
“Death?”  
  
Eren nodded. “All they do. Kill. Eat. They don’t care.”  
  
That left a gap of curiosity. “You’ve seen them kill people?” Armin asked.  
  
Another nod. “Soldiers. Like Jean. Like Mikasa.” That thought bothered him. His expression became more strained.   
  
“Have you ever killed someone?”  
  
Immediately, Eren sat up, completely mortified. “No! Never!”  
  
Armin flinched back at his sudden volume, then put his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t saying you would have! I just wanted to know.”  
  
Eren settled a little, but his eyes were fixed on Armin at that point. “Only killed Titans,” he muttered in a low, icy voice. “I’m not bad.”  
  
“You’re right,” Armin readily agreed. “You’re not.”

\---

Another night, Eren sat at the kitchen table, the entire drawer of silverware in front of him and a polishing rag in his hand. Armin had learned that Eren was oddly more honest, or at least had better clarity when he was distracted by something. He liked being busy, at his best when solving simple puzzles or sorting things. Polishing silverware seemed perfect.  
  
“Saw a Titan being caught. Like me,” he said, paying more attention than necessary to the prongs of a fork.  
  
“By scientists?” Armin asked. He was wise enough to hide his notebook on the counter behind him while he pretended to dry dishes. The notebook seemed to raise some anxiety in Eren. Out of sight, it was no problem.  
  
Eren hummed in affirmation. “It was fast. They had swords like Levi.”  
  
Of course he would remember the swords. They were the last things he had really seen as a Titan.  
  
He dropped the fork into the drawer before picking up a spoon. “Cut the arms, the legs. It fell and they put rope on it.”  
  
“Did they do that to you, too?” Armin asked.  
  
Eren shrugged. “Sort of. Less swords. More rope.”  
  
\---  
  
One night, Armin sat on his bed, several papers and books strewn across his quilt. He should have slept hours prior, but he was restless, and he couldn’t figure out why. Work often lulled him into a doze at best, so he set himself to organize some files, or fill out things he had neglected. The last time he had checked the clock, it was nearing three in the morning, and he still wasn’t tired.   
  
He raised his head when his door creaked. Eren poked his head in, a worried expression on his face.  
  
Anything with Eren looking upset automatically raised some internal alarms in Armin. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, subconsciously brushing some of the papers aside to make room for Eren on his bed.  
  
Understanding the silent offer, Eren padded into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the carpet. His toes idly brushed over the fibers as he spoke. “Remembered something. Before being a Titan.”  
  
Armin found himself more attentive than ever. Mikasa had provided a rough outline of her childhood with Eren, and aside from Eren remembering Mikasa at all, there wasn’t a whole lot to go on.   
  
Eren stayed silent for a moment. It was a contemplative quiet, and Armin wouldn’t have dared interrupt. When Eren finally spoke, his voice was strained, his entire being exuding careful composition. “My family,” he said softly. “Three people. Mikasa and a... mother and father. Their names...” He trailed off, and although Armin couldn’t completely see his face, he knew that Eren was frustrated by his lack of memory.   
  
“Mikasa would remember,” Armin offered gently.  
  
Crossing his arms over his chest, Eren nodded stiffly. “I want to know,” he agreed. He raised his head upward, staring at a point on the wall. “But they were happy, before the Titans. I was happy. Then the Titans came and... I felt lost.”  
  
Armin couldn’t even pretend to understand. A lot had happened in his own life, and he had raised and lowered himself on the crests and troughs of emotion and situation, but he had absolutely nothing to compare.   
  
Then he saw a minute trembling in Eren’s shoulders. It was almost imperceptible, but the realization hit quickly. Armin crawled across the space between them and sat beside Eren, carefully putting one arm across Eren’s back. _This_ , he could understand.  
  
“You can cry,” he said, his voice near a whisper. “It’s alright. You have every reason to cry.”  
  
Eren did just that. He raised his hands up to his face, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. He leaned forward, gritting his teeth and sniffing loudly. Then, he gave in. He sobbed, back shaking with each heaving breath, his entire being trembling with the sheer gravity of what he had remembered, and the realization of what he had lost. Armin was no stranger to this. He had faced it twice; once in the form of his parents who never came home, and again with his grandfather. Grief was familiar. Mourning was as much a part of their lives as anything else. To Armin, that sort of sadness was a quintessential aspect of being human. For Eren to feel this, and to react in such a way spoke leagues for his humanity.   
  
As Armin sat there, holding Eren as he mourned for a family he barely remembered, he felt that he could never react as he had before. He could never flinch away from Eren, or worry that he might do something dangerously unexpected. The Titan part was separate. It wasn’t waiting in his blood, preparing to tear through a barrier. Eren was human.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hahaaa what was that about updating sooner? /sobs into a corner
> 
> Anyway, it starts getting a little more plot intensive here. I finally hammered out a rough outline for the rest of the story (mostly Part 3), and this fic is going to at least provide some backstory for what's to come. What does that mean? Lots of stuff! But mostly me twisting my invisible villain mustache and cackling. 
> 
> Also this chapter has some gore in it, but nothing that one wouldn't be used to after watching a few episodes of SNK. Still, fair warning! Enjoy! :D

Rain etched out a clear labyrinth on the windowpanes and Eren traced their curves and slides with his finger. His hand would move up and down and side to side before resetting at one point and following another pattern. The glass was cool under his hand, and he could feel the window frame giving a slight shudder every now and again when the wind picked up.   
  
He pretended not to hear the murmurings coming from the kitchen. Instead, he focused on the citrus scent of Armin’s favorite kind of tea, which he always brewed extra strong. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the back of the couch, breathing deep through his nose to try to focus on the scent before it faded away. It was comforting, and the more he thought of it, the less he thought about why Armin was making it in the first place.  
  
Levi was there on an unscheduled visit. Eren could hear his voice, low and quiet, secretive without intending to be. He liked Levi well enough, and he was thankful for all he had done, but Eren was more than aware of what his visit meant.   
  
Armin only made his favorite tea in two situations. The first was in the morning, right after he got up. He would stand in front of the stove while Eren sat at the table, watching him go through the motions of getting his day started. Sometimes Mikasa would walk in and mumble out a tired greeting, or she would sit beside her brother in meditative silence. No matter what they did, Armin would do his routine of standing there, a thin blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders, fighting back yawn after yawn while he waited for the kettle to whistle. When it did, he would pour the water into a mug beside him, and Eren would take some delight out of the scent that filled the kitchen.   
  
Then, there was the second situation. Armin would make the tea when he was stressed or knew that something bad was going to happen. Very few times did he make it under those conditions, and it was rare enough that Eren began to get nervous when it would happen. If he was making it at that moment, late in the afternoon, then Levi wasn’t bringing him good news.  
  
Still trying to concentrate on the smell, Eren heard Levi say something, then taper off into expectant silence. Then he heard Armin’s voice, soft and light, but worried and... something _else_. Eren tried to search for the word that Armin had taught him to describe that sound.   
  
_Defeat_.  
  
He sounded defeated. Eren’s stomach felt as though it were clenching inward and twisting, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to go into the kitchen and hold him, reassuring him at the best ends of his vocabulary that there was nothing to worry about. He would get Mikasa to tell him the same thing.   
  
Levi replied, but this time it was short and terse.   
  
Fighting back the anxiety that was beginning to crawl through him, Eren looked back up at the window. He watched the raindrops slide steadily, directed by the wind. He followed them as they made their trails, cutting across diagonally, dipping down vertically, combining with other droplets. It was soothing for the moment, but he couldn’t ignore that gnawing sensation that was now at his diaphragm, hissing at him like acid and bile.   
  
This time, when he closed his eyes, he saw something like a dream. _Daydreams_ , he remembered Armin explaining. Images and visions that would appear in your head, like you had another pair of eyes that floated somewhere above you. Sometimes, Eren would make up pictures or events in his head, like going outside on a sunny day and seeing nothing but the sky above him, with no walls to block out the clouds. He tried not to think of the facility, but once in awhile, his mind would go their on its own, much to his chagrin.  
  
This time, it went to an open field he had never seen before. It was large, bisected by small stone fences and dotted with flourishing trees. There were small houses made of stone, their roofs like straw or strips of bark. Beside one of them was a windmill, creaking as the wind ran through its blades. Best of all was the warm light of the sun that was cast across it, coupled with a brilliant blue sky.   
  
Everything seemed so small, though. Idly, he wondered if he was a bird in this daydream. He imagined the wind as a warm breeze fluttering by him. He smiled against it, tempted to take in a deep breath.   
  
Then, he heard _it_. A low groan in the distance, followed by a series of thumps that Eren could somehow feel. He turned to see something coming toward him, large and misshapen, a pale interruption in what ever verdant landscape this was.   
  
A Titan.  
  
The corners of his vision turned an alarming shade of red. He felt nauseous with frustration, and he felt something that he hardly recognized that burned up and up through his body, sizzling through his stomach and up through his throat. It was raw hatred. It manifested as a cloud of steam, and Eren came to the realization far too late. He was a Titan again, and this was a memory.  
  
His body moved without him thinking. The Titan in front of him was closer now, and he could see it grinning at him. Its head lolled from side to side as it made its way toward him in a steady, swaying gait. Immediately, Eren put his hand out and crossed the space between them in two loping steps. He grabbed its head, making a cage around its face with his fingers, and then he _squeezed_. He felt something cracking under his fingertips, warm fluid oozing and sluicing down the length of his arm. The Titan began to thrash, howling with the most wretched sound he had ever heard. Yet he didn’t care, and more importantly, he didn’t stop. He simply wrenched his hand tighter like a vise, a snarl rising from his chest. The Titan was trying to push against him, digging its feet into the earth in some pathetic kind of escape plan. It was hopeless, as in one swift movement, Eren tore its head from its body.  
  
All he could think was how _good_ it felt.   
  
Immediately, he jolted out of what ever it was. Not a daydream, since those were always pleasant. It was a memory, like a nightmare that he had been hooked into and not given permission to leave. He opened his eyes and felt the smallest trickle of warmth running down his cheek from his mouth. He reached up and felt it on his fingertips, then moved his hand away to see his own blood.  
  
Eren’s heart hammered painfully in his chest. He swallowed hard, ignoring how his throat felt as if he had swallowed a molten brand. He needed to go into the kitchen and get something to wipe the blood up. However, that meant crossing Armin and Levi, and possibly alerting Armin to the problem. He couldn’t make Armin any more stressed than he already was, so instead he decided to get up and go into the bathroom. At the very least, he could wipe the blood off his face.  
  
Eren flicked on the switch and squinted against the light, peering at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Evidently he had bitten his lip, as there was a slight purplish dent just below the cut. Frowning, he turned on the faucet, allowing it to warm up to something other than frigid cold. It felt good on his fingers, and lulled him back out of the panic that he recognized building up within him.   
  
This time, he looked up at his reflection and stared. Dark, long hair, pulled into a loose ponytail by Mikasa’s doing. Eyes the same blue-green that Armin admitted to liking so much. A tired face, but _human_. As he reached up and began wiping the blood away, he reminded himself of that.  
  
 _Human.  
  
Not a monster._  
  
\---  
  
“You know what I mean, Arlert.”  
  
Armin nodded, holding his mug with both hands. He stared down at the amber-colored fluid, watching the steam curl up in tendrils. “I know,” he replied softly.  
  
The two of them heard the bathroom door click shut. Neither thought much about it.   
  
Levi watched him with a steady gaze. “The court is being generous. _Too_ generous, depending on who you ask.”

“I know,” Armin repeated.  
  
“Then I don’t think I have to tell you how much the clock is ticking here.”  
  
Armin didn’t reply, but vaguely registered the flurry of movement that indicated that Levi was leaving. His hands gripped the mug, trying to focus on the scent of citrus that seemed to be so adept at calming him. It wasn’t doing so well at the moment, as he wanted nothing more than to sink onto the kitchen floor and shut the world out.   
  
He knew he couldn’t waste any more time, just as much as he knew that he was doing just that, except perhaps subconsciously. There would eventually come a time when the court would lose its collective patience and haul Eren in regardless of if he was ready or not.   
  
Eventually, he did sit on the floor, knees close to his chest, tea untouched beside him. He closed his eyes and tried listening to the rain. It was distant, a quiet staccato of mismatched rhythm on his roof. He felt himself being pulled into a drowsy lull, interrupted only by the soft padding of bare feet on the kitchen tile. There was a pause, and Armin didn’t look up. He only heard the shifting of clothes and felt a dull thump on the floor as Eren sat beside him.   
  
Then, he felt Eren sidle up beside him, leaning his head on Armin’s shoulder. Immediately, Armin leaned against him as well, one arm going up to wrap around Eren’s shoulders.   
  
“Armin?” His name was a quiet exhalation of breath, hesitant and careful.  
  
Armin didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to open his mouth, lest he just start crying.   
  
He counted five breaths before Eren spoke again, this time his voice little more than a whisper. “Am I a monster?”  
  
He could feel his pulse in his fingertips, a faint throb in his otherwise frozen form. Eren tensed up beside him, and it felt like an awful twist in his own heart to feel it.   
  
“No,” he managed, voice straining and cracking as if his entire being was under an inordinate amount of pressure. With a quiet sniff, he looked up at Eren, only to see a similarly distressed face looking back at him. Without another thought, Armin pulled Eren close to him, embracing him as best he could in his position. “No,” he said again, louder this time. Eren let out a shuddering sigh and rested his forehead against Armin’s collarbone.  
  
Armin ran his fingers through the loose strands of Eren’s hair, tilting his head up once to press a kiss to his temple. “You’re not,” he said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaay I'm back! It's been nearly two months since I last posted so it's an enormous relief to post something again. 
> 
> So this chapter is actually something I wrote when I was still working on TLE, but while I was writing what was supposed to be the fourth chapter of this fic (which is more Jean-centric), I realized it would be so much easier to write if I added this in so his backstory was more fleshed out. With that in mind, the next chapter should flow much more smoothly and make more sense as to his intentions and personal philosophy. 
> 
> The next chapter will probably be posted tomorrow, with any luck. :D
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me. I definitely needed the hiatus but I'm much happier to be off of it. I love all of you! ;w;

Several months after Armin Arlert was designated as TF-1505’s researcher, Jean Kirschtein was given a mission to successfully capture and move a twelve-meter Titan. The mission details were foggy, but that was commonplace. All he was given was a basic description of the Titan in order to identify it, and the usual instructions on how to catch it and move it to its designated holding place.

TG-1282’s file described it as having remarkably human-like proportions. It didn’t have deformed limbs, exaggerated or shrunken down or mismatched as what sometimes occurred. In fact, the strangest physical trait it had was a smattering of dark brown spots that crossed the bridge of its nose and its cheekbones, similar to freckles. Its eyes were sunken in, its mouth thankfully closed (Jean hated when they looked like they were smiling) save for two indents close to the curve of its jaw where it could presumably unhinge the bone and open a gaping mouth. The Titan hadn’t been observed doing that, but it was a common feature in many others that looked similar.

All in all, save for the freckles, TG-1282 sounded excruciatingly normal. There hadn’t been attempts to capture it before, so its behavioral pattern was unknown. Jean detested missions like that, as his company sometimes seemed to be more like bait.

Capturing a Titan was difficult, no matter how many times Jean had gone through the ordeal, no matter how many maneuvers he had to pull out of his mental armory from training, or how many times he had to wind endless lengths of cable around and over creatures that could be ten times bigger than he was. At the very least, the agencies that requested these Titans always gave a reason, so it was never anything along the lines of that they had just wanted one.  
  
TG-1282 was abnormally docile. It had been observed from the walls of Trost, walking aimlessly, pausing and appearing to watch things like flocks of birds. Of course, Jean couldn’t think of any Titan being intelligent enough to have anything but human meat catch its interest. Those kinds of ‘abnormal behavior’ typically weren’t much more than a hopeful researcher aiming for a breakthrough. Even with this one evidently being a fairytale case, Jean predicted that it wouldn’t be more than a month before it would either be locked up forever or just executed to save room in the facilities.

Regardless, orders were orders, and so on an unfortunately pleasant day, Jean stood with his company at one of the openings in the wall at Trost, grimacing up at the cumulus clouds lazily working their way across the sky, hardly obscuring the sun from being a Titan power source. If they had to assign a day for a Titan capture, he would have preferred it to be cloudy, or at least done at night when they weren’t so active.

Scouts on top of the wall had announced moments before that TG-1282 had been sighted nearby, moving slowly due west. Some of the people around Jean sighed in relief that the mission probably wouldn’t be hard, but fate had a hilarious way of complicating things, he reminded himself.

The gate opened, revealing a poorly-maintained road leading out toward an open field. Jean knew the scenery far too well at that point. The landscape was dotted with abandoned farms and houses, some crushed by Titan interference, some just already in the process of weathering and rot. He often chose to focus on an ancient-looking windmill in the distance that still turned with an audible creak on particularly windy days. Sometimes, he could convince himself for a moment that the scene was idyllic and not something apocalyptic.

They walked out onto the road in loose formation, their squad leader barking familiar orders that Jean tuned out. It would be the same thing as it had been every time he had done a mission like this. They would start with some rough version of a plan, but it would probably break after about ten minutes and become more like a mad scramble to success. Killing Titans was far more methodical than capturing them, and he wished a thousand times over that he could have been assigned to a group that did that, or the military factions in the more glamorous interior.

True to form, he could immediately see their target in the distance. It was indeed walking slowly, as if it was on some lazy and casual stroll through the countryside. The scene was almost laughable, interrupted by the familiar sounds of blades being drawn and locked into place.

The signal was given to advance, and the first team went out in order to subdue the target. They would be followed by a team armed with cables, and another following closely behind with the moving devices. Once the Titan was brought down, secured, and ready to move, they would return at a dangerously slow pace to Trost, wait for the gate to be brought up, and bring it to the facility in question.

Jean was part of the advancing team, and so quickly engaged his gear to get as close to the Titan as he could. If it hadn’t been for his job, he would have enjoyed the use of his gear much more. It was sometimes thrilling to launch through the air and experience that moment of weightlessness before leaping again. His adrenaline kicked in immediately, and it took him no time at all to reach his destination.

The Titan, however, didn’t react to the presence of humans. It continued walking as if nothing had happened. Normally they would take notice, turning and launching straight into massacre mode. This one seemed immune, or deaf if that was possible.

“This is weird,” someone muttered from beside Jean.

He couldn’t help but agree, as well as feel as though they were walking into something strange. Even so, they had a job to do.

Without tranquilizers, teams often had to take down the Titan physically, slicing at tendons and major muscles, essentially causing the Titan to crumple to the ground. Once the first team member advanced and cut the tendon behind the Titan’s right knee, it finally turned to look at them.

It was _bewildered_. That much was obvious. It was also enormously jarring to Jean, who found himself staring up into enormous brown eyes, irises bright regardless of being sunken bank into its head. He gaped up at it, trying to reason out what was so _bizarre_ about all of this when he heard someone shout at him. “Kirschstein! _Move_!”

He did, but there wasn’t a need. The Titan just followed his movements but made no move of its own to grab at him, or to really do anything but watch. Another person cut the other tendon in its left knee, causing it to fall to the ground, its hands breaking the fall.

‘ _It knew to do that?_ ’ Jean thought, landing near its right shoulder.

He finally got a good look at it at his angle. Its hair was dark, straddling the line between brown and black. It was messy, cut off somewhere above its ears, and was parted down the middle. Of all things, it looked more human than any Titan Jean had ever seen, and that bothered him. What irked him the most were the markings across its nose. They weren’t _like_ freckles. They _were_ freckles.

“Damnit, they should just call you the ‘Girl Next Door Titan’,” he muttered, readying his blades to slice at the tendon in its arm.

Then, it turned to look at him again. The look it gave him was enough for him to pause, blades extended in position. It looked scared, confused, like it had no idea what they were trying to do it and why there were doing anything at all. The pause in Jean’s actions was horrifically dangerous, and if he had been facing a normal Titan, he would have been dead by that point. But the Titan didn’t move. It just stared dolefully at Jean before groaning quietly and lowering its head in a painfully defeated way.

When he finally sliced its arm, watching the blood splatter across the grass, just narrowly missing him, Jean felt guilty. The Titan slumped to the right, and shortly after fell completely to the ground when another person cut it at the left. It was rendered completely immobile, and it didn’t take long for the second team to approach and begin tying it down.

Jean watched with a hollow feeling in his chest. Normally, he felt at least some sense of success. Sometimes he felt vindictive if he was having a particularly bad day. Yet at that point, he just felt empty.

He distantly heard someone say that the target was successfully neutralized, and a moment later, that it was ready for immediate transport.

‘ _Titans aren’t people. They don’t deserve pity_ ,’ he reminded himself. As he walked alongside his team, watching the gate at Trost raise slowly, he found that he wasn’t exactly sure how much he believed that anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to posting this (sob yes I know I didn't post it the day after Ch 4 was posted)! I rewrote most of this chapter and edited it twice over before I eventually figured there was nothing much else I could do but post it. :'D Ahhh I'm a wreck.
> 
> Anyway, this is Jean-centric completely. I love Jean sososo much and I really like his role (both present and future) in the story, so it really just seemed right to put in his point of view on the whole shebang. Needless to say, it's a wee bit mercurial and that's great.
> 
> Finally, after this, I should be able to get back onto a weekly posting schedule, since the rest of this fic is planned out all the way to the end and I have some framework to mess with now! That, and the next two or three chapters should be waaaay longer than this. Lots of fun story to play with and possibly feelings to be shattered. I love it.

There were a lot of things in the world that Jean didn’t understand. Even after all that had happened with TF-150-- _Eren_ , he was still left in a state of perpetual bafflement, no matter how many times people tried to explain things to him.  
  
Compared to most of the people he was acquainted with, Jean considered himself far more simple. He wasn’t a military ace like Mikasa, not a scientific prodigy like Armin, obviously _nothing_ like Eren as far as he knew, and he could hardly stand beside people like Erwin Smith, or Director Levi, or Dr. Zoe, as they were leagues beyond him in every sense of the word. No, as far as he was concerned, he was Jean Kirschstein and there was nothing exceedingly unique about him. Honestly, after all he had seen, he kind of preferred it that way.  
  
That didn’t mean he could shrug all of it off. In fact, it had been almost nightmarish to return to his typical military routine after everything that took place at the testing facility. For one thing, it was even more difficult to go on Titan-related missions. Suddenly, he couldn’t look at them the same way. With every one they captured or killed, he put Eren in their place. Were they human once as well? Was there a chance they were intelligent? When his blades struck them behind the neck, was he actually murdering another person?  
  
It was thoughts like that that kept him awake at night, staring at the ceiling of the barracks and fighting bouts of nausea. For awhile, he didn’t know what to do. He considered asking his superiors to move him to clerical duties for awhile, at least until he could clear his head.   
  
_Then what?_ he asked himself. _Convince myself I like killing Titans?_  
  
Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. He had more reasons that just Eren to doubt himself and the missions.  
  
When he had joined the military, he had _hated_ Titans. Then again, just about everyone in Trost did. They were mindless monsters, hellbent on destroying human civilization and killing everyone in the process. There was no good to come from them. It was even said that Titans were the punishment for mankind’s greed and lust for power. However, it wasn’t any matter of philosophy that convinced Jean that the only good Titan was a dead Titan. It was seeing the wreckage and carnage firsthand, pushing beyond the metaphysics and legends and straight to the part where he would be forced to pick through human remains to find any form of identity for the masses found in Titan regurgitation.   
  
His mind fought tooth and nail with itself for a long time. He _had_ to kill them, to protect the people behind those walls, to at least quell the danger for a moment even if it meant pausing the inevitable. They were nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters, and there was _no_ way that they could be anything beyond that.  
  
Even though he knew better.  
  
\---  
  
“Alright, repeat that,” Armin commanded.  
  
“ _Has, had, have_ ,” Eren parroted back. He furrowed his brow in concentration, reaching across the coffee table and picking up an orange. “I _have_ an orange, and you _had_ it.”  
  
Armin grinned from ear to ear. “Right! Perfect!”  
  
Jean watched the whole exchange over the top of one of Armin’s Titan research books. Eren was smiling like it was the best thing he had done in his life, rather than simple conjugation. It was so at ends with what Jean had been reading that it made his stomach feel like he had eaten something sour.  
  
‘ _A Titan’s intellect is animalistic at best, primeval and instinctual. They cannot speak or recognize patterns, cannot differentiate, and have little to no common sense. To attempt to teach a Titan anything is to take on a fool’s errand._ ’  
  
Obviously, that wasn’t true. Once, Jean would have completely believed it and scoffed at anyone trying to tell him differently. Then again, there wasn’t an ex-Titan sitting in front of him conjugating about oranges back then.   
  
The thing was, there were _possibilities_. That was something that bothered him. There were Titans that had fallen under his blade that _could_ have been like Eren. Armin had even told Jean that he had witnessed one being executed, and that the presiding scientist had trusted the file to Armin. Then there was Jean’s own experience, looking into large brown eyes that were confused and _scared_.   
  
He had wondered about that particular Titan for a long time. If it had been anything like Eren, would there be a possibility where another man would be sitting across from him now? The thought made Jean feel almost diluted, as if all the energy and previous drive had been sifted out of him like had been drained through a colander. He didn’t know if that Titan was still alive, or if like Eren and the other scientist’s Titan, had been executed on the grounds of supposedly being dangerous. No matter what had happened, it made Jean almost feel ill.  
  
He didn’t notice Eren looking at him until Armin cleared his throat. Eren just furrowed his brow like the very appearance of Jean perplexed him.   
  
Jean shook his previous thoughts way and tilted his head up. “What’re you looking at?”  
  
Eren didn’t say anything for a moment, but the silence wasn’t the kind that meant he was formulating words or phrases. He was taking more time to assess Jean.   
  
“You’re upset,” he finally said, looking completely certain.  
  
Eren’s perception on that front was frighteningly uncanny. His intellect was developing, Armin had said, but his instincts were at their prime. It was frustrating, as Jean had never met anybody so willing and able to call him out on anything.  
  
“ _No_ ,” he shot back. “Unless you mean I’m upset about looking at your face, in which yeah, I think so.”  
  
An eerie quiet followed, strange in that Eren usually had a comeback by that point. Instead, he narrowed his eyes like he was putting in more effort to take everything in. Maybe it was his way of making up for years of not seeing _anyone_ , but it made Jean feel almost... vulnerable.  
  
Eventually, Eren looked back down at the orange in his hand and sighed. Armin had been studiously quiet during the exchange, probably taking mental notes on Eren’s behavior like always. Jean wasn’t really sure what conclusion he was coming to, or if he had a goal in mind. Other than preparing for the trial, Armin hadn’t said much else. Jean wondered if he purposefully wasn’t setting the bar very high, or at least not raising his expectations past the trial itself. After all, the last time he had done something similar, Eren ended up on the wrong side of military-grade steel.  
  
Still, despite Jean’s misgivings and the -- to be blunt -- _strangeness_ of it all, part of him really did expect that Eren would do well. He had already smashed through an entire wall of doubts in Jean’s mind, and thereby sent him reeling through a gyre of thoughts he didn’t really want to sort through. Jean had thought he had gotten out of his comfort zone the moment he joined the military, but in reality, nothing had prepared him. Eren hadn’t given him much of a choice.  
  
As Armin and Eren went back to their grammar lesson, Jean thought about the freckled Titan. At this rate, there wasn’t any doubt that Armin’s theory was right. There was something that had never been said, possibly even hidden if the government’s attempt at interference had anything to say about it. Yes, Jean did have to work through everything he had been trained to do, and eventually he would have to retrain all of it. He wouldn’t be able to think the way he had before. The freckled Titan wasn’t a monster, any more than Eren was. If that applied for any more of their kind, then Jean was willing to set his blades aside for them. He couldn’t change the face of science any more than he could defend an entire city, but he was part of this without ever predicting that he would be.   
  
Yet when he looked at Eren, despite all his heckling and teasing, he saw the very possibilities he was afraid of. Possibilities that people that were formerly thought to be dead could walk the streets again. Families that were torn apart could be repaired. Their enemy -- _his_ enemy, could actually be their greatest ally.  
  
If that was all true, he would quit the military seventy times over if it meant the world would be just a little less terrible.


End file.
